


Old Habits

by Lina_Love



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Big Brother Mycroft, One-Sided Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sherlock Being Sherlock, he likes to annoy mycroft with it, it was inspired by a song but doesn't really show, misuse of a violin, no mary hate i promise, set after the wedding, song fic (kind of?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 01:06:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14032803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lina_Love/pseuds/Lina_Love
Summary: Mycroft has been keeping a close eye on Sherlock after John's marriage.





	Old Habits

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this about a month ago, it's pretty self indulgent/not that great. I was listening to a song and it inspired it.
> 
> I was on a big Sherlock kick and I suppose that's why I saw them in this little mashup, feel free to listen and see if you can see it too.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=brgL9DPGHwg

There was very little in this world Mycroft truly cared for. As a matter of fact, he could label all of those things on one hand. And above any insignificant thing he might have found room in his heart for sat Sherlock. 

That was why when he received a text from his dear little brother, he dropped everything he was doing to make his way 221B Baker Street. 

When Mycroft entered the flat, he found Sherlock’s back facing him as the younger man stared out onto the street below them. He had his violin in hand, the bow gliding across the strings in a way that looked so effortless despite how hard it was to produce such a lovely sound from that instrument.

“You called me here.” Mycroft said, resting his weight on his umbrella, his grey gaze zeroed in on the small of Sherlock’s back. 

The reaction was immediate, Sherlock drawing a particularly ugly sound from his instrument before setting it down and turning to face Mycroft. He pursed his lips, walking around his chair and seating himself in it. 

“I did? I did.” Sherlock responded, folding his hands and placing them on his chin, staring ahead at nothing in particular. “You’ve been watching me with a closer eye lately, have you not?” He questioned, his blue gaze glancing to Mycroft quickly before looking forward again.

And that was when it clicked in Mycroft’s mind. He must not have been as distant as he had thought. He was clumsy or close enough that Sherlock was suddenly very aware of Big Brother watching. Quite literally. 

“It bothers you. It always has.” Mycroft said, his tone brushing off the issue as he had numerous times before. It was always the same discussion, and it was one he would always dismiss. 

“Your way of telling me it won’t stop.” Sherlock bit back, his words having a harsh bite to them. He could never understand why Mycroft continued to watch over him like he was some child. Why he /cared./ It didn’t sit right with him, it never had. It frustrated him, angered him even. 

“I didn’t stop in the past, I see no reason to stop now.” Came Mycroft’s quick response as he adjusted his stance.

Silence fell over the two, Mycroft with a blank mind and a blank stare, Sherlock with a mind full of ideas to finally get Mycroft to piss off.

“You think that I’m on the verge of giving into my urges again. Can’t possibly imagine why--”

“You know why.” Mycroft said, leveling Sherlock with a knowing glance, the corners of his lips twitching down into an impatient frown.

“You think I’ve gotten.../attached./” Sherlock said. He wasn’t that surprised that Mycroft had come to that conclusion, it wasn’t a fact he tried to hide, it was just that not many people were perceptive enough to pick up on how much he had grown to depend on John.

Mycroft scoffed and shook his head. “Honestly, this defensive attitude, Sherlock. You know I can see right through it. I just don’t want you falling into anything after you’ve been doing so...well.” He said, picking a piece of dirt from suit jacket and flicking it onto the ground.

“I never asked you to take care of me, Mycroft. I don’t need a babysitter, and even if I did, I would find someone more qualified than /you/ to take the job.” Sherlock shot out at his brother, his words dripping with venom.

Mycroft pursed his lips, his grip on his umbrella tightening. “Of course not.” He said, standing up and glancing to the door. “I’ll be taking my leave, then.” He said, brushing down his suit jacket before heading towards the door.

“...But before I do, I promised you once when we were young that I would never let you push me away. I am quite aware it is not my battle to save you from yourself, but I still want to. I know how it hurts you to be alone like this. I do hope you have a wonderful evening, brother dearest.”

Sherlock glared at Mycroft’s back, placing his bow to his violin again. “Wonderful seeing you, Mycroft. Do take caution on your ride home.” Content on having the final words in the conversation, he began to play some scratchy notes that didn’t set right together as he watched Mycroft’s figure retreat out the front door.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/Kudos are always appreciated. <3


End file.
